Filed by Bil at 7:11 pm under Shameless Plugs, The Arts

This very well may be the most boring blog in the entire universe. I’m really sorry about that.

I’ve seen three shows in the last three weeks, which is a good run for me, since I don’t see very much theatre. I don’t really want to talk about them, but I will endorse them all:
How I Became an Interesting Person by Will Dunn, produced by Chicago Dramatists, which closes February 22;
And They Put Handcuffs on the Flowers by Fernando Arrabal, produced by the Right Brain Project, which closes March 7;
Touch by Toni Press-Coffman, produced by New Leaf Theatre, which closes tonight, so you’ve already missed it. Again, I’m really sorry about that.

Rather than talk about these productions, I will talk about myself in context of the play I’m currently rehearsing: Sequestered by Jeremy Menekseoglu, produced by Dream Theatre, which opens March 12.

Also: come to the Chicago Ale House with us on February 22!

Every time I do a show, I learn something about myself as an actor; this is the second Dream Theatre show I’ve acted in, and acting for Dream Theatre is like a free master class. In rehearsals through this play, I have felt many times that what I was being told to do was wrong, that it wasn’t what my first instinct was, that it should feel more natural than it did. But I watched someone else rehearse this last week, and the other actress vocalized exactly what I felt. She said things like, “This isn’t how I imagined it,” and “I liked it better the last time we rehearsed it,” and “Ouch.”

What occurred to me, however, was that though she was complaining that it felt weird and unnatural – which are two things that most actors will tell you are strong indicators that you’re acting poorly – she was actually doing fabulously. It was the best acting she’d done on this production up until that point. She just didn’t know it. It looked better, it sounded better, the character became more interesting, and she wound up being more unpredictable. And for that role, it was brilliant. And we all told her so. Of course, she didn’t believe us. But it was true.

And I remembered after that rehearsal was over that at the end of my rehearsals where I felt bizarre and unsure, I was also told that it was better and better. And I didn’t believe it.

But I’m going to start trusting the opinions of those watching from now on, especially the director. If he says he likes it the weird way, then chances are it’s good. I’m going to step out of my own damn head and listen to others’ opinions instead. This is a show where one can get away with that. I don’t think this would fly for some other productions, but it’s a weird show, so if I feel like I look and sound weird, then I’m going to start treating that as a good thing. I’m going to embrace what feels wrong and give it a fair trial. And if it works for the show, then it will eventually feel right. I’ll bend to the show; I won’t make the show bend to me.

Because it’s a collaborative art, and I’ve got half a dozen other artists giving me honest opinions. And I’ll give my honest opinion in return.

I think I’m a company member of Dream Theatre now, too. They’ve asked me to join the company several times now, but I keep declining politely because I want Tip Your Waiter Productions to be my main focus. But one can only say no so many times. There’s been no official ceremony where they hand me a sword or anything – yet – but there may be an asterisk by my name in the program. Which is a thought that fills me with a childlike joy. But keep it on the D.L. If you’ve read this entry all the way to here, you’re probably trustworthy. This may be, after all, the most boring blog in the entire universe.